Ears still ringing with Samuel’s anger, I let Yseult go ahead of me, and followed her away from our sleeping chamber. She strode through the stone hall with her chin in the air, revealing no sign that she had been cast out.
“Yseult,” I called and she paused, keeping her stiff back to me. “Tell me, is it possible for a human to mate with a wolf?”
“A human? Pure? With all the magic stripped from them by their White Christ? No.” Her tone mocked.
“So Brenna cannot be our true mate.” Even as I stated it, the wolf inside me disagreed. She is ours, the wolf insisted. Our true mate.
I forced myself to meet Yseult’s gaze. The witch seemed to sense the wolf’s disagreement, and my despair. The expression on her face was kin to pity.
“I will tell you, Daegan. I cast the runes before I came here.
